This year’s Holy Saturday — that in-between day when the disciples quarantined themselves in fear — seems especially relevant in our COVID-tyrannized world. Our presuppositions — plagues are a thing of the past — have been strewn on the floor. We’re suddenly vulnerable. Everything’s dark.

The prayer masters of the past knew that God still works in the darkest hours, and Holy Saturday — especially this one — is a moment when we can think of God-in-the-darkness.

Rachel Matthews, a regional correspondent for Britain’s Premier Christian Radio, interviewed several individuals who discovered God in those in-between times: times of uncertainty, times of stillness, times of darkness. She broadcast segments of those interviews here and entitled the talk, “Living Through Saturday.”

Nihilism’s intellects have emerged from the shadows in the wake of President Donald Trump’s March 22nd tweet: “WE CANNOT LET THE CURE BE WORSE THAN THE PROBLEM ITSELF. AT THE END OF THE 15 DAY PERIOD, WE WILL MAKE A DECISION AS TO WHICH WAY WE WANT TO GO!”

Hear the resurgence of Social Darwinism, a discredited 19th-century ideology that baptized rivalry. Modern-day advocates usually guise their cannons in the language of free enterprise and nonintervention and deregulation: Let market forces prevail and all will be well. But now they’re liberated amid the pandemic, free at last to sever their ties with traditional conservatives and proclaim their survival-of-the-fittest creed in all its glory. Some frame themselves as grim realists (“most can’t bear hearing this, but …”). Texas Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick, a former right-wing radio host, even offered himself as a martyr: “No one reached out to me and said, ‘as a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ … And if that’s the exchange, I’m all in.”

Social Darwinism once held sway in the 19th century, when philosophers such as Herbert Spencer (1820-1903) applied theories of natural selection to human society: Might makes right in a pitiless universe. Robber barons and captains of industry employed it to enforce 12-hour work days and paltry wages. They snubbed Matthew 25:31-40 despite their church attendance. Jesus says he’ll line up the sheep and the goats at his second coming and invite the sheep into his kingdom: “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” They did that whenever they “did it to one of the least of these.”

That’s great for Sunday school, but we gotta come back to Earth on Monday.

A lawyer’s dilemma

Sample Attorney Scott A. McMillan. He boldly tweeted on March 23: “The fundamental problem is whether we are going to tank the entire economy to save 2.5% of the population which is (1) generally expensive to maintain and (2) not productive.”

Notice McMillan’s assumptions. Money’s everything. The sick and the elderly carry a huge price tag (they’re “generally expensive to maintain”) and fail to do their bit (they’re “not productive”). Don’t count the moments grandpa bounced little Emily on his knee or grandma told Joey she’d beat up the monster under his bed, thus ridding him of those nightmares. We can’t measure such trifles in billable hours, so they don’t count. Human beings are economic cogs; worth is always measured in dollars or stock options.

Ca-ching.

Classical Christianity, of course, says that’s twisted. We possess intrinsic worth because we’re made in God’s image. Money serves the human community, not vice versa. As Russell Moore says: “Each human life is more significant than a trillion-dollar gross national product.”

Most religion tries to overcome hostility and seeks harmony with God and neighbor; Social Darwinism lifts competition as a high virtue and assumes it pervades nature. Laura Ingraham of Fox News unwittingly displayed such presuppositions in a tweet posted a few hours after McMillan’s: “A global recession would be worse for our people than the Great Depression. Doctors provide medical treatment and cures – they should not be the determinative voices in policy making now or at the end of 15 days.”

Skip past the chasm between an intentional, curve-flattening short-term economic shutdown and the cataclysmic, system-wide crash of the 1930’s. For now, just probe how Ingraham funnels her mental energy. We could harness our thoughts, channel them toward synergy, and pose different questions: “How can medical and government wonks cooperate to save our lives and our pocket books?” But no. That’s not practical in a hostile world. The lions and hyenas are snarling over a carcass on the drought-riddled plain, so we carnivores better grab our chunk of meat before it rots. And watch your back. Every friend’s a potential foe. It’s rich versus poor; weak versus strong; young versus elderly; and doctors versus government officials.

Remember: Our questions well from our presuppositions and we mold reality accordingly. Nineteenth-century industrialists assumed a cutthroat universe and built factories with perilous working conditions. Later generations saw the world through different prisms. Factories are now safer and workers earn livable wages.

When “realism” doesn’t make sense

Some – such as Brit Hume, Dennis Prager, and Glenn Beck – have followed Ingraham’s path. RR Reno blasted Andrew Cuomo and suggested the New York governor was “dangerously sentimental” when he said this: “I want to be able to say to the people of New York – I did everything we could do. And if everything we do saves just one life, I’ll be happy.” Reno upbraids: “What about justice, beauty, and honor? There are many things more precious than life.”

Reno posted his piece at the pro-life First Things, an irony not lost on authors such as Max Boot.

A self-fulfilling doomsday

Fortunately, other influencers see the glaring logical flaws. US Rep. Liz Cheney (R-Wyoming), hardly a fire-breathing lefty, tweeted this: “There will be no normally functioning economy if our hospitals are overwhelmed and thousands of Americans of all ages, including our doctors and nurses, lay dying because we have failed to do what’s necessary to stop the virus.”

In other words, Social Darwinist “realism” isn’t realistic. It spells economic doom.

Cheney’s not alone. Some of the most eloquent voices come from the center-right (classical conservatism roots itself in the thought of Edmund Burke – 1729-1797 – who valued tradition and community). The Bulwark’s Alan Cross, a Southern Baptist pastor, wrote a post entitled, “Our Parents Are Not Expendable.” He says: “As a Christian, Jesus tells me to love my neighbor, who in this case includes the business owner who is looking at his company going under, the waitress who just got laid off because her restaurant closed, the immigrant laborer who was fired last week as his factory cut back—and our parents and grandparents who cannot now leave the house for fear that they will catch this disease and die a gruesome death in a short period of time. If we’re not willing to go to war with this virus and fight for all of them, then we’ve already lost..”

Medical professionals are already faced with grievous choices, partly because authorities turned a deaf ear to early warnings and didn’t obtain enough life-saving equipment. Still, the COVID-19 pandemic forces us to ponder: Is grandma a wrinkled and dispensable sprocket, worthy only insofar as she’s useful in the remorseless machine? Or is she an exalted imago dei? Our answer to that fundamental question will guide us toward the right questions and formulating the best policy in the upcoming days.

The first is the church. Jana MacDonald, a fellow member of St. Paul’s in Willington, CT., plugged our Livestream service and then told us to “be” the church the rest of the week. She gives practical suggestions accompanied with hearts:

Check on your elderly neighbors. Practice “social distancing.” Share the toilet paper you’ve been hoarding. Donate food to your local shelters. Support your local restaurants by purchasing gift certificates that can be used later. If you choose to eat out, tip generously. Support local freelancers whose incomes may be effected by the need for social distancing: musicians, photographers, therapists, etc. Support hourly wage workers by offering childcare so they can continue to work. Take care of yourself. Rest, exercise, get out in nature, eat healthy food, meditate, limit news/social media consumption. Reach out and ask for help if you need it. Find ways to stay encouraged and connected.

She’s telling us to tap into the traditional Christian response to epidemics and pandemics. Moses Y. Lee plumbs that heritage at the Gospel Coalition. See his “What the Early Church Can Teach Us About the Coronavirus.” Third and fourth-century plagues afflicted the Roman Empire. The pagans looked out for Number One and avoided the sick at all costs; Christians showed compassion and self-sacrifice. The consequence: The empire’s beleaguered residents were grateful and many abandoned paganism.

Andy Crouch, a national Christian leader, didn’t leap to conclusions and actually did research on the coronavirus. He wrote a helpful what-to-do-and-not-to-do essay here in an article entitled, “Love in the Time of Coronavirus.”

The second scene is Italy, of all places, which has reported 21,157 cases and 1,441 deaths (as of Sunday afternoon, March 15). The nation is locked down and hospitals are jammed, yet its people find room for innovative celebration. Here, neighborhood residents stepped onto their balconies and sang the national anthem together:

And in Rome:

Here, Italian air force pilots greet everyone with the late Luciano Pavarotti’s rendition of Nessun Dorma (let no one sleep). The lyrics say venceremos (we will overcome). The jets face a single plane, symbolizing the virus, and defeat it with the nation’s flag.

The final scene shows how bizarre things are. I actually find encouragement at Fox News. Early last week, Trish Regan of “Trish Regan Prime Time” rambled about how publicity over the pandemic was yet another impeachment ploy. Predictably, many were appalled. Unpredictably, Fox News higher-ups were among them. Said one anonymous producer: “The attempt to deflect and blame the media and Democrats from Trish Regan, Sean Hannity, Laura Ingraham, Lou Dobbs, Jesse Watters, and Greg Gutfeld instead of addressing the coronavirus is really irresponsible and hazardous to our viewers.” An internal e-mail from a CEO said: “Please keep in mind that viewers rely on us to stay informed during a crisis of this magnitude and we are providing an important public service to our audience by functioning as a resource for all Americans.”

In Lent, we stop swallowing pop psychology’s bromides and face ourselves for who we are. We’re sinners. The remedy is not evasion but confession — and few provide better templates than the Book of Common Prayer. My church said this confessional prayer together on Ash Wednesday. I’m thinking about taping it to my wall and saying it every single 2020 Lenten day:

We confess to you and to one another, and to the whole communion of saints in heaven and on earth, that we have sinned by our own fault in thought, word, and deed; by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.

We have not loved you with our whole heart, and mind, and strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven. Have mercy on us, Lord.

We have been deaf to your call to serve as Christ served us. We have not been true to the mind of Christ. We have grieved your Holy Spirit. Have mercy on us, Lord.

We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives, We confess to you, Lord.

Our self-indulgent appetites and ways, and our exploitation of other people, We confess to you, Lord.

Our anger at our own frustration, and our envy of those more fortunate than ourselves, We confess to you, Lord.

Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and our dishonesty in daily life and work, We confess to you, Lord.

Our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to commend the faith that is in us, We confess to you, Lord.

Accept our repentance, Lord, for the wrongs we have done: for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty, Accept our repentance, Lord.

For all false judgments, for uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, and for our prejudice and contempt toward those who differ from us, Accept our repentance, Lord.

For our waste and pollution of your creation, and our lack of concern for those who come after us, Accept our repentance, Lord.

Restore us, good Lord, and let your anger depart from us; Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great. Accomplish in us the work of your salvation, That we may show forth your glory in the world.

By the cross and passion of your Son our Lord, Bring us with all your saints to the joy of his resurrection. AMEN.

I was all skepticism when I heard that Donald Trump ordered the assassination of Iranian Major General Qassem Soleimani, head the branch of the Revolutionary Guard waging Iran’s proxy wars abroad, called Quds.

True, Soleimani was a bad actor for a rogue nation, but the attack made no sense. First, endangering the world with a potential US-Iranian fight nullified the president’s stated reason for betraying the nation’s Kurdish allies: extricating America from Middle Eastern wars. Second, the alleged need for the assassination — imminent threats loomed against Americans unless Soleimani were killed — defied military reality: The boots are already on the ground if the attacks are, indeed, “imminent.” Third, the general may now be venerated, since 89% of Iran’s citizens are Shiite Muslims and revere martyrdom.

Surely policy experts would issue strong cautions.

Perhaps they did. Perhaps some even drew attention to Christianity’s “Just War” theory, which should really be called “Modified Pacifism” and is meant to restrain potentially violent leaders (I wrote about it here). Suffice it to say that this shooting doesn’t qualify — not even close.

But, if given, Trump ignored the warnings. The consequences reel before us: Iraq wants US troops to leave the country; Iran is mulling retaliation; and a stampede at Soleimani’s funeral killed dozens (surely America will be blamed). Who knows where this will end?

The Church of England saw the chaos and published this prayer yesterday, the Day of Epiphany. Personally, I’m joining my Anglican brothers and sisters. I’m praying this prayer:

Today – December 28, 2019 – is the Feast of the Holy Innocents, when we remember Herod’s order to slaughter all Bethlehem’s males aged two and under. His aim was to kill a potential rival — the Messiah — but Mary, Joseph, and Jesus were already fleeing to Egypt.

I think of Herod. His life testified to power’s dehumanization. He knew he was unpopular because he was the Roman Empire’s favored buck, a half-Jew, and indifferent to religion. So he bought into the leadership theory of Ivan The Terrible, Joseph Stalin, and Idi Amin and headed off suspected plots via strategic murder. He killed his wife, his brother, and his sister’s two husbands. Slaughter was policy. Butchery was a management technique. Carnage was protocol.

My guess: Herod stared with a vacant gaze. He knew nothing of friendship; all relationships were transactional; a given man or woman or child was as valuable as a potted plant. Today’s pal might be tomorrow’s enemy, so smile with a sharpened sword.

The world is filled with lesser Herods. Some billionaires link up with their latest trophy wives and beam with pride over their quashed competitors. Tyrannical bosses think nothing of ruining careers and families. They smile with their lips but not with their eyes. Perhaps they know momentary happiness, but their humanity shriveled while their wealth mounted and they cannot experience genuine joy. They may even view it as a weakness.

Our dark side secretly envies such people – if, for no other reason, than they get away with it – but watch their eyes next time. You’ll see their empty smiles and the predator’s gaze.

That’s the terrible price of toxic power. Even children threaten as potential enemies.

]]>https://charlesredfern.com/2019/12/28/human-predators-innocents/feed/0chuckredfernherod the great“Sheer Grace” Invadeshttps://charlesredfern.com/2019/12/24/sheer-grace-invades/
https://charlesredfern.com/2019/12/24/sheer-grace-invades/#respondTue, 24 Dec 2019 14:45:43 +0000http://charlesredfern.com/?p=6977I can think of no better words to mark this Christmas Eve Day than Augustine of Hippo’s (354-430), the North African bishop and, arguably, Western Christianity’s most influential post-Pauline theologian before Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274). This sermon excerpt was lifted from today’s Office of Readings in the Liturgy of the Hours (December 24, 2019).

Awake, mankind! For your sake God has become man. Awake, you who sleep, rise up from the dead, and Christ will enlighten you. I tell you again: for your sake, God became man.

You would have suffered eternal death, had he not been born in time. Never would you have been freed from sinful flesh, had he not taken on himself the likeness of sinful flesh. You would have suffered everlasting unhappiness, had it not been for this mercy. You would never have returned to life, had he not shared your death. You would have been lost if he had not hastened to your aid. You would have perished, had he not come.

Let us then joyfully celebrate the coming of our salvation and redemption. Let us celebrate the festive day on which he who is the great and eternal day came from the great and endless day of eternity into our own short day of time.

He has become our justice, our sanctification, our redemption, so that, as it is written: Let him who glories glory in the Lord.

Truth, then, has arisen from the earth: Christ who said, I am the Truth, was born of the Virgin. And justice looked down from heaven: because believing in this new-born child, man is justified not by himself but by God.

Truth has arisen from the earth: because the Word was made flesh. And justice looked down from heaven: because every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.

Truth has arisen from the earth: flesh from Mary. And justice looked down from heaven: for man can receive nothing unless it has been given him from heaven.

Justified by faith, let us be at peace with God: for justice and peace have embraced one another. Through our Lord Jesus Christ: for Truth has arisen from the earth. Through whom we have access to that grace in which we stand, and our boast is in our hope of God’s glory. He does not say: “of our glory,” but of God’s glory: for justice has not come out of us but has looked down from heaven. Therefore he who glories, let him glory, not in himself, but in the Lord.

For this reason, when our Lord was born of the Virgin, the message of the angelic voices was: Glory to God in the highest, and peace to men of good will.

For how could there be peace on earth unless Truth has arisen from the earth, that is, unless Christ were born of our flesh? And he is our peace who made the two into one: that we might be men of good will, sweetly linked by the bond of unity.

Let us then rejoice in this grace, so that our glorying may bear witness to our good conscience by which we glory, not in ourselves, but in the Lord. That is why Scripture says: He is my glory, the one who lifts up my head. For what greater grace could God have made to dawn on us than to make his only Son become the son of man, so that a son of man might in his turn become son of God?

Ask if this were merited; ask for its reason, for its justification, and see whether you will find any other answer but sheer grace.

On December 22, 1918, Karl Barth preached a sermon entitled “A Sermon for the Third Sunday in Advent,” proclaimed in an era when supposedly Christian Europeans draped flags over their Bibles and traded their faith for nationalism. Millions were gassed, burned, and shot. The full sermon can be found at the Theology Forum, but the following paragraph seems especially appropriate now:

The message of Advent about the coming of the light requires that we become people of Advent; people who persistently await the victorious light. Where there are such people, Christmas can happen. Christ waits for people who will not compromise the light with darkness, neither in themselves nor in anything else, but who are moved by the serious need for the light of Christ and who are aware of whence the help comes. May God give that we may go forth to the festival of Christmas as moved and motivated people. Then we will experience Christmas with the gifts of grace and blessing.

Believers in Christianity’s first centuries used the Advent season, in part, to zero-in on Christ’s second coming, which seems to render Advent irrelevant for the present day. But it turns out that the eschaton, or last days, barges in on our lives now. Followers of Christ already participate in the Second Coming’s blessings. They’re just not yet complete. Theologians in the Second Vatican Council wrote all about it in the following paragraphs, entitled “The eschatological character of the pilgrim Church.” Most Protestants, of course, will sift out some of the sacramental lingo inevitable in a Catholic document, but there’s still much food for thought for all. Read and ponder.

The Church, to which we are all called in Christ Jesus and in which we acquire holiness through the grace of God, will reach its perfection only in the glory of heaven, when the time comes for the renewal of all things, and the whole world, which is intimately bound up with man and reaches its perfection through him, will, along with the human race, be perfectly restored in Christ.

Lifted above the earth, Christ drew all things to himself. Rising from the dead, he sent his life-giving Spirit upon his disciples, and through the Spirit established his Body, which is the Church, as the universal sacrament of salvation. Seated at the right hand of the Father, he works unceasingly in the world, to draw men into the Church and through it to join them more closely to himself, nourishing them with his own body and blood, and so making them share in his life of glory.

The promised renewal that we look for has already begun in Christ. It is continued in the mission of the Holy Spirit. Through the Spirit it goes on developing in the Church: there we are taught by faith about the meaning also of our life on earth as we bring to fulfilment – with hope in the blessings that are to come – the work that has been entrusted to us in the world by the Father, and so work out our salvation.

The end of the ages is already with us. The renewal of the world has been established, and cannot be revoked. In our era it is in a true sense anticipated: the Church on earth is already sealed by genuine, if imperfect, holiness. Yet, until a new heaven and a new earth are built as the dwelling place of justice, the pilgrim Church, in its sacraments and institutions belonging to this world of time, bears the likeness of this passing world. It lives in the midst of a creation still groaning and in travail as it waits for the sons of God to be revealed in glory.